Vipers in the Lake | BTS Gang x Reader

15. Home, Sweet Home

You stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around you, just as the flip-phone vibrated quietly on the counter. Condensation clung to every surface in the room; mirror, floor, your skin. Cracking the window open with one hand, you scanned over the text conversation with Namjoon as the heat and wet air dissipated slowly out of the room

Y/n: Going fine so far. Dad isn't here.

NJ: Good. We don't have eyes on him right now, so don't do any digging anywhere he could walk in. Lay low, Y/n.

Dragging yourself back into your bedroom, you sighed deeply. No searching today, then. It was just as well; although you hadn't missed this house, in all its imposing, lavish glory, you had missed the familiar comfort of your own bed. 

You ran a hairdryer over your sopping head, keeping the hair clip sat on the dresser just in front of you. It began to vibrate slightly, moving with the motion of heavy footsteps ascending the staircase.

You shoved the phone into a drawer a split second before a knock resounded. 

"Yes?" You said, fingers running through your now dry hair. 

"Y/n?" Came your father's voice from the other side, painfully familiar and painfully worried. "Are you dressed?" Standing from the softness of the bed, you plastered on a brilliantly sad expression as you ran to the door, flinging it open.

"Dad!" Burying your head in his chest, your nose filled with the heady scent of expensive cologne and expensive cigars. His thick hands came around you, holding you tightly.

"I was so worried about you." To give the guy credit, he did sound genuinely sad. Then again, he was obviously well acquainted with lying straight through his teeth. "Oh, my baby girl," he said, hand stroking over your head gently. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, Dad," you said, voice quavering slightly. You were getting better and better at this every second. "I'm just so glad to be home." He nodded down, face pulled into a frown.

"Mom says the food is ready." His frown became deeper as  you backed slightly away from him. Smiling sheepishly, you cocked a thumb over your shoulder.

"Okay," heading back to the dresser, you grabbed a hoodie and used the excuse to shove the phone deeper, under socks and t-shirts. Holding the black sweater up to show him, you swiped the hair clip off to top. "Just grabbing this."

His ebony eyes watched you from the doorway. You noticed for the first time how cold they were. It wasn't that he looked at you differently than he had all the other 19 years of your life. No, it was just that you had seen true warmth. What it looked like to look at someone you really loved. You had seen it every day at their house; in the way they joked with one another, passed each other the salt and pepper during mealtimes. You had seen it between them.

On the walk back down to the kitchen, you tried to soothe the tension from your collarbones. You managed to, sort of, but it only returned when your father lay a protective arm around your shoulder. Feeling the way you froze up slightly under his touch, his gaze shot to you once more.

"Y/n..." he said quietly. 

Crap. Crap. Crap. He's going to realise I know what he's been doing. It's all over. And it's barely even started.

"..what happened to you?" 

The sigh of relief escaped you before you could hold it back. Taking your silence as meaning that you didn't want to talk about it, your Father fell quiet once more, steering you gently into the kitchen. 

Your Mom lay the noodle dish out in front of you, steam curling gently up from the plate. 

"It looks delicious, Mom," you said, trying to muster a bit of normalcy. None of this would work if you had your parents watching you like hawks 24/7. "Thank you." Wolfing down the food, you slipped the hair clip sneakily back through your hair.